


A Literary Chemistry

by astarlightdaze



Category: Be More Chill - Iconis/Tracz
Genre: He's gay as fuck lmao, Like Jason Dean!, M/M, Multi, Some characters from other fandoms are mentioned., Tags will be added as they appear!
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-07
Updated: 2018-10-07
Packaged: 2019-07-27 20:21:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,480
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16226627
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/astarlightdaze/pseuds/astarlightdaze
Summary: Even when Middleborough High first opened its doors, there has existed a strong, almost lethal rivalry between the Science and English departments. This rivalry ran deep, shared by all English and Science teachers, no matter their age, experience, or familiarity with Middleborough. No teachers from either department would ever be caught dead talking to the opposite division, and they avoided each other at pep rallies and dances as if they were venomous beasts on the hunt for a bloody victim.This year, the 75th year in the history of Middleborough, things will change.





	A Literary Chemistry

**Author's Note:**

> The prompt that inspired this was "You’re in the science teacher clique and I hang with the English teachers. I’d say our love is like Romeo and Juliet but I don’t think you’d like that much" and I love it. I love it so much. Hopefully this fic will survive! 
> 
> I'll do my best to update frequently, but updates might be a little random.

At Middleborough, a division is clear between the teachers. Of course, all the staff get along when needed, but that definitely doesn’t mean that they  _ always  _ see eye-to-eye. Most of the teachers are alumni, having graduated from Middleborough themselves years ago, but even the teachers that are new to the school find their own slots in the teacher hierarchy. 

 

Some of the groups of teachers are grouped based on their personal interests or age, like the group of Spanish teachers that all share similar heritage, or the older teachers that have probably taught the younger teachers themselves, long ago. Some teachers stick with the teachers in their halls, like the computer-ed teachers that seem to exist in solitude in their corner of the school. 

Most of the Middleborough staff “cliques” interact with one another, and on occasion, even work together. This is to be expected; high school teachers really should set a good example for the students that they influence. It wouldn’t be good for the school staff to argue amongst themselves near students, especially because it is against policy for students to argue or cause commotion, no matter how often the teachers do it. 

There is one (1) exception.

Even when Middleborough High first opened its doors, there has existed a strong, almost lethal rivalry between the Science and English departments. This rivalry ran deep, shared by all English and Science teachers, no matter their age, experience, or familiarity with Middleborough. No teachers from either department would ever be caught dead talking to the opposite division, and they avoided each other at pep rallies and dances as if they were venomous beasts on the hunt for a bloody victim.

This year, the 75th year in the history of Middleborough, things will change. 

Enter Jeremy Heere, AP English teacher. This is his first year teaching at Middleborough, but already, he has plunged deep into the social system. He graduated from Middleborough himself, years ago, but he lost contact with all of his classmates, even those he considered close friends. Jeremy is standing in his classroom behind his desk on Tuesday, the day before the school year begins. He is about to head to a school-wide meeting that supposedly will begin the year and hopefully answer some of his questions. 

Honestly, he’s nervous.

“Jeremy, you’re going to be fine. The English squad will love you!” Richard Goranski, self-appointed ‘best English and Creative Writing teacher EVER’, exclaims to an anxious Jeremy. 

“I know, Rich, I know,” Jeremy responds, wringing his hands. “But what if they don’t?”

“Wh-?” Rich begins, “If they don’t like you, then I’ll-” Rich is cut off by a loud buzz, signalling that the intercom has turned on. 

“Good morning, everyone!” A peppy, familiar voice calls, the slight echo from the hallway indicating that the announcement is school-wide. “The yearly orientational meeting will be starting in five minutes, so please make your way down to the assembly room! This is going to be an amazing year, I can feel it! I can’t wait to see you all and work alongside you as Middleborough Wombats!”

The intercom switches off, the following silence thick in the air. At least, Jeremy thinks that it is. Rich turns to Jeremy, an excited twinkle in his eye. “Well, I guess you don’t have time for what-ifs! Let’s go, Jeremy, we need to get there quick if we want those free donuts!” Rich turns and waves Jeremy along, jogging out of the classroom. Jeremy squawks, running after Rich.

“You never said there would be free donuts!”

☆☆☆☆☆

When Jeremy finally catches up to Rich, the other teacher has a donut in each hand. He turns as Jeremy enters the room and waves one donut in the air, calling to Jeremy. “Over here!”

Jeremy weaves between the tables to get to Rich, not able to avoid noticing how divided the room is. Most of the teachers are in their own groups at tables in separate corners of the room, similar to the cliques Jeremy had known in his own years as a student. He decides not to mention it to Rich, as there is most likely a reason for the separation, and takes the glazed donut when it is offered.

“Thanks, Rich,” Jeremy sighs, taking a bite of the donut and groaning in delight. These donuts are  _ delicious _ , he decides, closing his eyes in bliss. Rich chuckles and takes a bite of his own donut, his laughter melting into a reaction similar to Jeremy’s. 

“These are  _ amazing _ ,” Rich sighs happily, “Definitely better than last year’s.” 

“Why thank you,” A voice comes from behind Jeremy, causing him to jump in surprise and turn around. The source of the voice is a tall, muscular man, who has a slight limp as he approaches the two. The man grins at Rich and then turns his attention to Jeremy, extending a hand to shake. “I’m Jacob Dillinger, but, please, call me Jake.” He introduces himself.

Jeremy hesitantly shakes the hand, in awe at how beautiful this man is (and how he can also make amazing donuts). There’s a beat of awkward silence before Jeremy realizes that Jake is probably expecting an answer. “Jeremy,” He blurts. “I’m Jeremy Heere. AP English.”

Jake chuckles, a deep laughter that is warm and smoother than honey. Rich appears at Jeremy’s side, the area around his mouth dotted with donut glaze. “Damn, Jake,  _ you  _ made these?” Rich asks, tearing another piece of donut off with his teeth. Jeremy winces as Rich continues through his donut, “They’re great. Remind me to volunteer you for snack duty every time!”

Jake snorts, then teases, “Chaperone for me at the senior Prom and I’ll consider it.” Rich makes a disgusted and slightly alarmed face in response. He pauses to swallow, and then exclaims, “I am never being chaperone for prom again! Not after I found Dean and Mell in the storage room. Never again!”

Jake, Rich, and the nearest group of English teachers all wince, one of them coughing as she chokes on the donut in her hand. Jeremy’s face goes a little red, partly from confusion and mostly because he thinks he knows what ‘Dean’ and ‘Mell’ were doing in the storage room. What Jeremy really wants to know, though, is why Rich seemed to spit venom in his words when mentioning who Jeremy assumes are two other teachers. 

“Who are they?” He asks, apparently a little too loudly. Rich shushes him, digging his elbow into Jeremy’s side. Jake’s face scrunches up a little, his expression shocked. Jake turns to Rich. “You didn’t warn the newbie?” Jake asks, surprised. Rich shakes his head. “Haven’t gotten around to it,” He responds. The two turn to Jeremy, who is more confused than ever.

“You went to Middleborough, right?” Jake asks. Jeremy nods, but he isn’t really sure what that has to do with anything relevant. Rich cuts in, his voice hushed, trying to keep others from eavesdropping. “Did you ever notice how the English teachers never talked about the Science teachers, and vice versa?” 

Jeremy pauses to contemplate. His memory of high school is a little hazy, mainly because his high school experience was shit and he had long since repressed the memories, but he does vaguely remember something like that. All four years, he’d rarely heard his teachers talk about each other, but the pattern definitely fit the experience-- His Science teachers never spoke of the English department, and he remembers an English teacher of his who made her hatred of Science known from day one.

Mind made up, Jeremy nods.

Content with the nonverbal answer, Jake continues, “Even then, our departments have hated each other. I guess it’s nothing personal for them, but Science teachers are just… They’re all so loud and destructive. The entire English department stays away from them, and I’d recommend you do too.” Rich nods in agreement, adding, “Even if the Science teachers don’t do anything to you, some of the English department might hold it against you. It’s not worth it.”

“Oh,” Jeremy responds dumbly. He’s about to speak when a loud clap comes from the front of the room, followed by a loud call for attention. “Hello, everybody!” A woman calls. Jeremy feels like he knows that voice, and when he turns, he knows exactly who he is looking at.

This is Christine Canigula, his teenage crush. Jeremy had never built up the courage to speak to her, even though they’d been in the same classes from seventh grade through graduation. He’d have to get over that, though, because he knows now that Christine is Middleborough’s principal, meaning that Jeremy can’t avoid her. Christine continues speaking, her voice happy and upbeat, seemingly improving the mood of everyone in the room. 

 

“I’m so happy to see you all! This is going to be a great year for Middleborough, so let’s get started, shall we?”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!


End file.
